


In Every Season

by Cali_se



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Post-Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3113420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cali_se/pseuds/Cali_se
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam loves every season...</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Every Season

**Author's Note:**

> Written in February 2010, this is a series of five linked drabbles, originally posted for waymeet's _Take Five_ challenge. My prompt was _Five things Sam loves about gardening._

_Sam loved the spring._

He loved the chilly mornings and the gently warming breezes. His work in the garden was made even more pleasurable by the knowledge that soon more flowers would follow the brave, now fading, snowdrops into bloom; and the purple heads of the crocuses would nod to pretty neighbours in yellow bonnets, as their paths briefly crossed. 

As he busied himself, deftly pruning back Bag End’s climbing roses, clematis and flowering shrubs, he would often sing an old rhyme the Gaffer had taught him, that spoke of the promise of spring and all that she would become… 

~*~

_Sam loved the summer._

He loved the deep blue of the Shire skies overhead, with their little puffs of cloud drifting carelessly by. He loved the jewel-like green of the grass and trees, and the pretty blush of the roses. He enjoyed the feel of the sun on his back as he planted golden marigolds and many-hued lobelia; it was pleasant indeed, the way it soothed and warmed his forearms as he carefully and lovingly trimmed back the privet. 

Most of all, Sam loved the many herbs he cut for drying, and the way their scent lingered on his fingers… 

~*~

_Sam loved the autumn._

The cooler air brought with it rosy, ripening apples. Sam would gather them up into wicker baskets, ready to be eaten, juicy and crunchy, or cooked and encased in pastry. 

Pulling a rake through beds of golden leaves, he’d smile, relishing the sound they made beneath his feet. They looked like drops of sunshine before the rain got to them. 

If the soil was not too waterlogged, Sam would plant wallflowers, forget-me-nots and primulas in late autumn, and tulip bulbs would be pushed into the dark soil, to wait patiently to flower in the early spring… 

~*~

_Sam loved the winter._

As chill winds blew from the north, the air grew crisp and cold and the fireside beckoned, but he would tend to the garden the full day, as usual. He said it needed to be taken care of then more than ever, and there was still much to do. The borders needed clearing of debris, and their soil asked for turning and a large helping of mulch. 

And even in the harshest of frosts, when the spade could not dent the soil, Sam would guard the plants from winter‘s spiked fingers, and prune the dormant trees…

~*~

_And Sam loved me…_

In spring, he'd sing to me and bring bunches of bobbing yellow bonnets, bright as the sun. 

In summer, he would bring garlands of pretty roses, and fragrant sprigs of rosemary and lavender.

In autumn, he’d bring me apples, fresh and sweet, which we’d share by the fire. The flames crackled like crisp leaves in the sun. 

When winter came, he'd guard me from its spiked fingers, like a snowdrop cradled in his gentle hands.

In all seasons now, I think of Sam. 

I am caught in the winter of my life, waiting for my spring.


End file.
